


Public Relations: If What We Could Were What We Would

by sevenall



Series: PANTHEON: Public Relations [6]
Category: X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: Alicia's Pantheon universe, Will Braddock Worthington grows up during the new world order
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-22
Updated: 2016-04-22
Packaged: 2018-06-03 18:54:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6622348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sevenall/pseuds/sevenall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Genosha.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Public Relations: If What We Could Were What We Would

The Tower, Aug 2022

20:12

Trying to lock onto the moving dot on the radar screen was like a sim game. Only no sim could have predicted Warren Worthington's maneuvers as he piloted an ancient Boeing 747 through rains of fire and anti-aircraft missiles; oh Gods, the man could fly. And because he could, the advanced tracking systems failed again and again to lock onto him and give the teleporters a chance.

Betsy was standing aside from the others. Their mission was the passengers, the innocent lives. Hers was to bring Warren out of there. Only that. She followed the movements on the screen calmly enough, but murder was in her eyes. No one had dared question her presence, no one would, indeed.

Red turned to green. They had him. In fractions of a second, four people were gone.

Then the radar screen blanked out. The infrared flared bright white. The XSE had not been the only ones to get a lock.

\--  
20:15

"Fucking cloud cover," someone slurred and Betsy was back, on the floor under the screen, trying to crawl out from under its shadow.

They should have helped her, but she looked too awful to touch, with hair and eyebrows singed and large white blisters bubbling up on her blackened face and hands. As she rolled over, they could see molten metal spattered all over the back of her fatigues. Inexplicably, she was also soaking wet.

"Medic!" someone yelled over the intercom, since they had three, maybe four, fewer teleporters than they'd had minutes ago.

"Fuck that," Betsy gasped, getting up unsteadily on hands and knees. She spat a mouthful of blood and what looked as teeth fragments onto the floor. "Secure the WEI trustees. Close down the markets. Will goes to Jamie. It's...all in the...Nathan knows where. What."

And as if they didn't all know this already, she said:

"Warren's dead."

THE END?


End file.
